We've reached the half-way point in this 10-part series on St. Paul's first letter to the church of the Thessalonians. From here on out, each part will be topical, and we'll be covering themes that appear throughout the letter.

This week we're covering "election and grace". The reason why this subject is important is because some interpretors and commentators have viewed the entire letter through the lens of their doctrine surrounding God's saving election and grace. It is also important because there are at least two key verses which have to do with election and predestination which must be interpreted. So, how should be understand them?

In the attached document, two perspectives from the Reformed tradition are outlined: that of John Calvin and his followers, as well as that of Jacob Arminius and his followers. Then an alternative way of conceptualizing election and grace is outlined.

"Messiah Jesus of Nazareth is the Elect One, the One whom the Father loves. As we “come to him” through repentance and faith, we are added to his spiritual body, the ekklesia, the ‘called out ones,’ and we too become God’s elect. In Jesus, we are being built up into a temple in which God dwells by God’s Spirit."

There are several dialogue questions you can ask yourself or discuss with others. Download the attached document to learn more.

In this 10-week study of First Thessalonians, we've reached week 4. In part 2 and part 3 we looked at the first two components of the letter's "table of contents". Paul (roughly) divides the letter into 3 sections based on the three couplets of praise he gives the Thessalonians: Their "work of faith," their "labor of love," and their "steadfastness of hope." This week, we're looking at the third couplet.

Malala Yousafzai is a 16-year-old, Pakistani, Muslim girl. She was interviewed on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart to promote her new book. Her story is pretty amazing, but not nearly as amazing as her nonviolent convictions. When her opportunity to pursue education was taken away by terrorists, she refused to keep quiet. Instead, she spoke out for the rights of girls to receive an education through every available means. This made her a target of the Taliban, and they sought to murder her.

In the interview with Jon Stewart, an amazing thing happened. Stewart asked Malala what she was thinking when she found out she was being targeted by a terrorist group. In a thrilling moment of television history, she related to Stewart her firm conviction to seek the good even of those who would want to kill her. She explained that even the female children of the Taliban deserve the opportunity to get an education. And she told Jon in no uncertain terms that she would not resort to violence, even to defend herself.

Both my wife, Osheta, and I were watching this interview while reading and writing on our laptops. When we heard her words, we both stopped typing and looked up—we were as stunned as Stewart. Malala embodies the spirit of Jesus's command to love one's enemies better than most of the teaching among US American Christians. And Stewart didn't know it, but the beauty of her testimony, the beauty that stunned him silent, is the beauty of the cross-shaped love of Jesus.

Last week, in part 2 of this 10-week study of First Thessalonians I'm calling "The Arrival of King Jesus," we looked at the first couplet from chapter 1, verse 3, the Thessalonians "work of faith." This week, we're looking at the second, their "labor of love."

Love Requires Labor

The first thing that sticks out is the way Paul's characterization of love contrasts so cleanly with the way love is often depicted in 21st century Western culture. Rather than a "feeling" that comes over a person without warning and over which the person has no control (e.g. "falling in love" etc.), Paul's description of the Thessalonian's love is one of painful toil, or labor. The Thessalonians have had to put effort into their love; it hasn't been a romantic walk in the park. The kind of laborous love Paul describes manifests as self-control. Here's an excerpt from this week's study guide:

Instead of “lust like the heathen who do not know God,” by which people take advantage of one another, the Thessalonians have been “taught by God” a new way of love. This love is a holy love that is controls one’s body. (4.4) It is like the protective armor the Roman soldiers wear, only it protects believers from spiritual warfare. (5.7) And this self-control also entails leading a quiet life, “minding one’s own business,” as a missional witness to those outside the body of Christ. This self-control comes from the Holy Spirit whom God has given the Thessalonians. (4.8) A few years earlier (perhaps), Paul penned similar words to the churches of Galatia saying,

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” — Gal. 5.22-24

In week two of my ten-week study of First Thessalonians I'm calling "The Arrival of King Jesus," we're looking at "The Faith of the Thessalonians." Click here for last week's lesson.

It's commonly believed that chapter 1, verse 3, is a kind of "table of contents" for the whole letter. It sets out a three-fold order that roughly characterizes the letter's structure. The verse reads:

“remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.”

In this week's lesson, I cover the relationship between "faith" and "works," Paul's view of these things, as well as other apostolic teaching. Then I cover the content of the Thessalonians' faith, which Paul describes, and ask: "What socio-political implications would this faith have?"

See the attached PDF to follow along in the study. Next week, I'll cover The Love of the Thessalonians.

In the Hagia Sophia (Church of the Holy Wisdom) in Istanbul, the mosaic pictured above can be found depicting Christ seated on the throne of the cosmos with the Byzantine emperor Theodosius I worshipping him. Mary, Jesus's mother, and an angelic figure are on Christ's left and right. 1

Starting this week, I am leading a ten-week study of First Thessalonians that I'm calling "The Arrival of King Jesus". While the above mosaic is not from first century Macedonia, what it captures that I find relevant to Paul's letter is the reality that for the early Christians their faith in Messiah Jesus had very clear political ramifications vis-a-vis the empire.

An Overview of Fight

Fight: A Christian Case for Nonviolence (hearafter, just Fight) opens with a graphic description of a genocide in Mozambique that is reminiscent of the opening chapter of Mere Discipleship by Lee Camp. Only, in Camp's book, the genocide described was in Rwanda. This is a bit of a "shock and awe" technique. Few U.S. Americans, let alone evangelicals, will be bothered to read detailed accounts of such atrocities, yet end up holding strong views on the subject of war. Sprinkle clearly wants to challenge this comfort, and suggest that we should see war for the horrific, dehumanizing, demonic nightmare that it truly is, before we even attempt to construct an ethical position on the subject. I think Sprinkle's instincts here are correct. Far too much writing on violence and war from U.S. evangelicals is written through rose-colored glasses. Sprinkle will expose some of this as well.

After that, Sprinkle spends three chapters examining the nature of warfare in the Old Testament, the violent passages, and puts forward several theories of interpreting them. I think this section is the book's weakest by far, but I'll get to that shortly. Before leaving the Old Testament entirely, Sprinkle adds a chapter about themes in the Hebrew Bible which point to the developing ethic of nonviolence that more fully appears in the New Testament—particularly in the life and teachings of Messiah Jesus. This capstone chapter is titled for the prophecy found in both Isaiah and Micah of the coming Messianic age when "swords will be beaten into plowshares."

When Sprinkle turns his attention to the New Testament, Fight turns into an outstanding book. With the next four chapters, Sprinkle will cover a lot of ground, but manage to do it in a way that is both scholarly and yet highly accessible. He covers the nonviolent ethic of Jesus, the nature of Jesus's "kingdom," our citizenship in Jesus's kingdom, the nonviolent meaning of Revelation, and more. These chapters alone are well worth the cost of the book. But for added value, the final third of the book includes a survey of the early church fathers' attitudes toward war, militarism, military service, and killing; responses to several common objections to Christian nonviolence; and an imaginative parable that illustrates the type of cruciform discipleship he's been teaching throughout the book. To top it all off, he even throws in an appendix on Just War theories. Truly, Fight is closer to a library of resources on Christian nonviolence than merely a book. I think readers will be thankful.

Depending on your access to social media, you may not have heard about this story, or you may think you're hearing about it everywhere. Either way, this story is not getting enough attention, and it probably won't. I'm convinced human beings want Good News, but we've been conditioned by our world to settle for and wallow in Bad News. This is the condition that helps media outlets determine what stories will get ratings, which in turn feeds the culture to which the media is trying to cater. What we end up with is a vicious cycle perpetuating a culture of death. We're entertained, fixated, horrified, and mesmerized by violence!

After the Sandy Hook school shooting, NRA President Wayne LaPierre famously said,

"The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun, is a good guy with a gun."

This logic seems sound to millions of U.S. Americans who have been conditioned by our culture of violence and death. Then along comes a story like Antoinette Tuff's, and the presumption that only greater violence can prevent violence is utterly shattered. Tuff's story beautifully illustrates at least three things:

The power of faith to produce love for the 'other';

The power of shared stories;

The power of the Holy Spirit.

Combined, these powers overcome the powers of mental illness, violence, hatred, and death. Take note people—is what Christian discipleship looks like in real life!

***SPOILERS***

This is part 3 of a three-part theological reflection on Warm Bodies. In part 1, I explored what Christian theology and the movie have to say about being "fully alive." In part 2, I discussed what the movie and Christian theology have to say about being "fully human." In this post, I'll comment on what both Christian theology and Warm Bodies have to say about relating to the "other."

Zombie movies rarely challenge us to think about how we treat those who are different from us. Instead, there is never a question of who are the "good guys" and who are the undead "bad guys." The bad guys look hideous. The bad guys attack without provocation. The bad guys are mindless killing machines. At least, that's how they're typically portrayed. But not in Warm Bodies!

Instead of painting all zombies with one brush, Warm Bodies introduces a progression in the zombification process. Zombies deteriorate into a less and less human state until there is no humanity left. The other zombies call these completely zombified zombies "Boneys" because they have torn off their own flesh and only their blackened skeleton remains. When the main zombie character "R" introduces them, he says, "[The boneys] eat anything with a heart beat. I mean, so will I, but at least I'm conflicted about it." The implication is that the final state of zombification entails the complete loss of empathy, feeling, humanity.

So, if zombies can progressively become more zombie-like, can they become less zombie-like too? That is the question this new information raises. And if the characteristic feature of complete zombification is being utterly devoid of feeling, what then would be the characteristic feature of a zombie who is becoming more human?

***Spoilers***

If you're just tuning in, this is part 2 of a few theological reflections on Warm Bodies, a zombie romance movie. In part 1, I explored how Warm Bodies illustrates what Christian theology has to say about what it means to be fully alive. In part 3, I'll discuss how Warm Bodies helps us think about how Jesus-disciples are called to relate with the 'other.' But in this post, part 2, I'll be commenting on what Warm Bodies exposes about what it means to be fully human:

What Does it Mean to be Fully Human?

In Warm Bodies, something is awakened in the zombie main character ("R") when he encounters the non-zombie main character: "Julie" (And before you ask: Yes, these two names are designed to cause viewers to recall Romeo and Juliet). Rather than attack her without thinking and devour her brains, he is struck by her and desires to know her. So he rescues her from the other zombies who would surely kill her and brings her home to his airplane apartment where he can keep her safe. She is naturally confused, terrified, and distrustful of this zombie who is treating her very un-zombie-like. She's been taught that zombies are nothing but "corpses"—unfeeling, unthinking, non-human. But every time R saves her life, provides her with food, plays music for her, she can't help but begin to rethink what she's been taught. Several times, directly after R has done something selfless for her, she asks, "What are you?" (not "Who are you?"). She's asking, "Are you actually human?"